I am thinking about the woman in a century of peaceOn a bright mosaic she is washing on her kneesAnd she looks up at the black sky beyond the mountain tallShe says, "Oh good, the rain is finally going to fall today."This was Pompeii.

And everyone has memories of the night that melted stoneThe neighbor's nightgown, the screaming on the phoneAnd the tired man at the station says, "We can't tell who's aliveAll we ever know is that the tourists survive.""Tra la, tra la," they say, they say"Let's Go Pompeii."

I think about Pompeii when I feel an end is near, Just before the rain and every time you disappear. And I think about a teacup, suspended and half-served. And all the scholars know is that it's perfectly preserved. That's all they say. This was Pompeii.

And as for my own kingdom, not a table leg was charredI simple lost my kingdom 'cause I held it much too hardOnce I had a sadness, the sadness turned to trustThe trust turned into ashes and to lawyers and dustA century, a dayThis was Pompeii.